Night had fallen over the Hufflepuff Common Room. Inside Tom's room, he was hunched over his desk, sketching and drawing on the whiteboard in front of him, planning the design of the gift he had promised Ariana.
He wasn't sure if Dumbledore would ever allow Ariana to reveal her condition to others. Yet, knowing how much the old honeybee doted on his sister, he suspected the headmaster would likely indulge this small whim. Regardless of Dumbledore's final decision, it made no difference to Tom. The little gadget he had promised her would be made tonight.
Setting aside the fact that Ariana might still be exposed even if a few people covered for her, the most important thing was clear: "This is my promise!" Keeping one's word was one of Tom's many excellent principles—though, of course, principles could bend in special circumstances.
Since he had promised to hand the item to Ariana tomorrow, he would work through the night if needed. "And for such a small gadget, once the materials and production method are decided, it won't take long at all~"
With that in mind, Tom drew a glove on the whiteboard and recorded Ariana's hand measurements. He knew that even if he eventually made the item into an amulet or hairpin, the final effect wouldn't change. Still, when it came to something meant to be held, his first thought was always a glove. And since he had already measured Ariana's hands, switching to a different design would render that effort pointless. A glove was the best choice.
Next came the question of materials. When he thought of gloves, Tom instinctively imagined the dragon-hide gloves he owned. Dragon hide was tough, wear-resistant, and had excellent magical conductivity—perfect for a functional magical item. If it weren't custom-made, Tom might have even considered modifying his own gloves for Ariana.
But there was a problem: "It's the middle of the night—where am I supposed to find dragon hide? (╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻"
Even if Dumbledore himself went looking, there was no way he would find any in such a short time. Snape could reimburse the cost, but that didn't solve the immediate problem. And taking a piece from his own collection? Impossible. Despite his usual ability to summon items, dragon hide had never been something he could pull out. Not only had he never possessed it, he hadn't even seen a dragon yet!
"Forget it. Next plan."
Tom erased "Dragon Hide" from the whiteboard and thought. "What else can I use for gloves? It needs to be comfortable, and ideally, it should carry magic… Wait!"
His gaze fell on his own blue fur. Soft, warm, and capable of carrying magic to record a few spells, his Cat's fur seemed perfect. But the idea of plucking enough fur to make a pair of gloves made him shiver. He was still young and had no desire to go bald. That plan died before it could be written on the whiteboard.
After considering countless options, the whiteboard remained blank except for the simple glove outline. Tom slumped over the desk, tail drooping. None of the materials he had considered were feasible. "Fine… I'll just go with my intuition."
With a decisive stretch of his paw, he reached into the air. Instinct guided him, and soon, something materialized: parchment. Ordinary parchment, the kind used by young wizards for homework.
"??? Parchment? Gloves? Even if it were sheepskin, it's still paper. Can this even work?"
Tom shrugged, trusting his instincts. He spread the parchment on the desk, feeling its texture with his paw pads. It was surprisingly unique. The only flaw was stiffness—it would be uncomfortable to wear.
"Maybe I can fix that… Instinct, help me one more time!"
Closing his eyes, he reached out again. Two more items appeared: a roll of ordinary bandages and a small, transparent bottle labeled Moonstone Powder.
"Meow?"
Tom recognized the bandages but wondered about the Moonstone. "Moonstone stabilizes potion ingredients… maybe it can harmonize the parchment and bandages, making them soft and comfortable together!"
Trusting his intuition, he added the three materials to the whiteboard: Parchment, Bandages, Moonstone Powder. Parchment would form the glove's shape and carry magic, bandages would provide softness, and Moonstone would bind them.
To a master alchemist, this method would be absurd. Even Nicolas Flamel would scoff—alchemy wasn't wish-making. But for Tom, believing in its feasibility was enough.
He tore palm-shaped pieces from the parchment, sprinkled Moonstone Powder over them, wrapped them in bandages, and waited. Nothing happened.
"?"
Realizing he needed processing, he pulled out a hammer, a mini electric welder, and a half-used jar of glue. Even in Hogwarts, where electronics normally failed, these tools seemed to work perfectly for him—a testament to his divine skill.
"Clang! Sizzle! Bang!"
The room filled with smoke. Sparks flew, the hammer swung, glue applied, and the welder flashed. It was chaos, yet methodical in its own way. Finally, the smoke cleared, and a pair of gloves lay on the table. Their texture was between leather and cloth—resilient, warm, and surprisingly comfortable.
"Done. Now for the magic that lets a ghost touch objects."
Tom planned to imbue the gloves with magic and wishes, creating an effect that didn't exist yet. Drawing from past experience—like when he helped Pandora without overloading magic—he plucked a tuft of his tail fur, spun it into a uniform thread, and began to embroider.
Closing his eyes, he stitched instinctively, letting his magic flow into the thread. He thought: "Help Ariana touch things. Be gentle. Be stable, so she can hold them properly."
The pattern emerged as he sewed: on the left, a simplified blue Cat; on the right, the profile of a blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl. Their hands were joined. The lines were simple yet vivid.
"Meow?"
Tom stared, stunned. He hadn't intended to create a recognizable figure. The design seemed… extravagant. Yet, loyal to his little master Luna, he let it be. "It's just a temporary item. I can change the pattern when I make dragon-hide gloves later. Luna won't mind… probably… Zzz…"
Tom slumped on his desk, fast asleep. Beside him, the gloves rested silently, the pattern on the palms shimmering in the moonlight like a blessing.
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